


Don't Look Back (I've Never Had a Reason To)

by liviie



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst, Blood, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Knives, M/M, Pain, Protective Neil Josten, Running, Sad, Sexual Assault, Short, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:26:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29636679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liviie/pseuds/liviie
Summary: Instead of staying when Neil gets the first number of his countdown, he runs.
Relationships: Kevin Day/Neil Josten, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! If I don't finish this fic and you wanna hear it out, feel free to yell at me or write it yourself :)

The first rule Neil learned about running, was to never look back. Mary beat this lesson into his skin the minute their feet hit the pavement and, up until now, the rule seemed so simple. For so long, Neil didn’t have anything to look back at. No family, no school, no friends. His past was an uninteresting hallway with blood seeping down the walls. Mary used to grab him by the roots of his hair and pull his ear close. He remembers the smell of her unbrushed cigarette scented teeth souring the air. She’d whisper, _“never look back, Abram.”_ So he didn't. 

The day Neil got the first number of the countdown, he laughed. Not because it was funny, but because it seemed like an appropriate reaction. When Matt looked at a message from someone on his phone, he usually giggled or smiled or rolled his eyes. When Nicky sent him messages, they were messages that anyone but Neil would laugh at. So, when the number “37” blinked on Neil’s phone, he laughed so hard his sides hurt. Tears flowed down his puffy oxygen-deprived cheeks. The salt burned where the drops of water swelled on his eyes. Neil couldn't tell if the tears were emotion-stunted or just from the subtle pain laughter brings. 

Kevin found him in that exact state, lying helplessly on the ground, exhausted from the pure insanity that was his life. When Kevin asked what was so funny, Neil couldn't get a word out of his ecstatic, bleeding lips. Cracked and torn from Neil’s fingers begging the laughter to stop. For the noise to stop. For in the constant buzzing under his skin to just… stop. 

When he could breathe again, Neil wiped his cheeks and looked up at Kevin. For a minute he felt okay again. He felt whole and safe, like even though he was going to die, at least he had Kevin Day. Neil flopped onto his back and stared up at the dorm ceiling. There were markings of water damage from the floor above shaped in a brown splotch that looked like a claw. Below that, the ceiling was a dirty grey left from Andrew’s cigarette smoke that never escaped through the window. Neil ignored the painful lump choking through his throat as he closed his eyes and admitted the truth, “I was supposed to be court.” 

Any ideas about a future, whether it be with Exy or Andrew, were gone. All it took to take away a lifetime was one number sent to a cheap flip phone Neil barely used. A phone Neil tried to vehemently deny. It was laughable to think that accepting the device was what led to his demise. Not the publicly badmouthing a high member of the Yakuza. Not playing for an almost national ranking college Exy team. Not talking to the press with Kevin-Fucking-Day behind him. Or even making the news for being a nobody striker. No, a flip phone Andrew strongarmed him into accepting was what killed him. After all this time, that's all it took. 

On the second day of the countdown, Kevin pulled him into an empty room and kissed him for the first time. He whispered “Neil Josten” until Neil believed it, then begged him to run. Kevin held Neil between his arms and Neil realized that Kevin was terrified. Not of the serial killer nipping at their heels, but of losing Neil. Kevin, a man Neil only thought capable of loving Exy, cared about him. In that empty room, Neil kissed Kevin for the last time and told him to forget. Neil asked him if he could help Andrew forget as well, even if he knew it was impossible. 

Maybe that revelation was what made Neil Josten run. Maybe the way Kevin threatened telling Andrew about Nathan scared him more than dying. Or maybe realizing the reason he wanted to stay wasn't because he didn't have anything to gain and no reason to keep running, but rather because he had everything to lose. Either way, Neil Josten was gone by morning. The only evidence that he was ever on the team was a pair of keys on his pillow and a note. 

On the third day of the countdown, the first rule of running kept repeating in Neil’s head. _Never look back, never look back, never look back._ Yet, even with the incurable rerun of the same words, without a blow to a cheek they wouldn’t stick. Almost daily he finds himself at a different library googling “Palmetto State Foxes” looking for a reason to go back. Any sign of danger, any excuse to turn himself in. When he finds Andrew or Kevin staring back at him from the screen, he almost feels guilty for indulging himself. He ran so they wouldn’t have to bury him. He ran so they didn't have to see his once tan skin turn to a mucky purple. He ignores it though. Instead, he thinks about how much they are going to have to pay for the stains in the ceiling. 

12 days after running, Neil finds himself with black hair and hazel eyes. He didn't have much money in the folder since giving it to Andrew, but he had enough for one last identity until he made it to Texas. 

Neil caught the last bus to Austin Texas when he heard the news. It was grainy and quiet in the night, but he thinks even if it was silent Neil would hear it. The news anchor seemed uninterested as she began the report, "Neil Josten, striker for the Palmetto State Foxes, went missing roughly 2 weeks ago, soon followed by his other teammate:s Nicky Hemmick, Matthew Boyd, Danielle Wilds, Allison Reynolds, Renee Walker, and finally, Andrew and Aaron Minyard. David Wymack, the coach of the team, stated that one week after Neil, his captain, Danielle Wilds went missing. That report was the last anyone heard from the man. If anyone has any information, please contact the number below." 

There was a beat of silence where Neil thought it was over before the words continued, “Although most of the team has disappeared, former Raven’s star Kevin Day and the team’s therapist Betsy are sitting here with us today to give a report of the situation. When you’re ready.” 

“Thank you Angelica,” Kevin’s shaky but unafraid voice answered, “Two weeks Neil said he was going to go on a run, for Neil this seemed normal. I mean, he goes on runs around campus all the time, we didn't expect this to be any different. This time though, he didn’t return. Neil is… well he is dodgy. Ever since the beginning of the year he’s been a flight risk. When he didn’t come back, we all thought he’d just run off. No one had any doubt he wouldn’t return.” 

Betsy’s voice interrupted Kevin, “That's why we didn’t panic at the first loss. Then Dan disappeared… soon it was all of them.” 

Strangely, the news didn't shock Neil. In a way, he knew this was going to happen. Inevitably, Nathan would find a way to get his son back. Neil was just too dumb to realize how. And now that it's happened, a traitorous part of him told him to keep running. His teammates got into this mess, they could get out. 

But he knew, when he arrived back to his old family home- when, not if- Nathan would smile knowingly and Neil would never be seen again. Nathan would tear him from the inside out and make his old teammates watch, but at least they'd be alive. At least his team- his Foxes- would be able to remember him. Even if they could only remember his blood every time they close their eyes. 

As Neil stepped off the bus, he did what he promised never to do. He looked back.


	2. Baltimore: Birthplace of Nathaniel Wesninski

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil makes it to Baltimore where he inevitably finds trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has elements of torture, gore, and sexual assault. Be careful!

One truth about a fox's life: it's short. The average life of a red fox lasts up to 5 years. In that time, it has to do 3 things: eat, sleep, and survive. This is where the line between The Palmetto State Foxes and the animal begins to blur. One truth about The Foxes: they know the difference between living and surviving. 

On the court, the team adapts and plays like Exy will save their lives and, in a way, it did. Wymack wouldn't admit it, even with a gun to his temple, but everyone on the team knows. If Wymack hadn't found them, they'd be dead. Most of the people would've had empty funerals. If they hadn't found Exy, most of them wouldn't even have had a chance to try to survive. Screw 5 years, they wouldn't have lasted 1. 

So, as Neil enters Baltimore, Maryland for the last time in his life, he lets himself smile. He lets himself melt away in the memories of the last year and somehow, he manages to hold back the bittersweet tears threatening to flow down his cheeks. He didn't think he knew how to cry, but on that greyhound bus he welcomed the idea that he could, if he really wanted to. 

Neil Josten died, he thinks, the moment he realized how much he wanted to live. The moment Kevin kissed him and he knew without a doubt, he wanted to be kissed. Neil Josten wasn't going to get an empty funeral, despite how much he wished he would. Because dying now, meant falling into his father's hands. It meant The Foxes never forgetting this day. It meant pain for everyone involved. It meant tears shed for a rabbit with a running problem. 

The bus stopped and Nathaniel took a deep, bone shattering breath. The back of his eyelids displayed memories he owed to the people he was going to save. Once Andrew and Kevin's stupid face came up, Neil forced himself to open his eyes and climb out of the bus. 

Baltimore was like anyplace in Maryland: cold, dreary, and sad. The fog was so thick you couldn't tell if it was natural or pollution. To anyone else, it looked just like all the other cities on the peninsula. New York was busy and all man-made, but overall the sky was the same color. There were rats and dirty dumpsters down every leaky alleyway. Empty sleepy bags littered the street and Nathaniel hoped that they'd be filled with their rightful owners by nightfall. 

It was full of business buildings to make it seem tall and unique, but Nathaniel knew how small it truly was. As he walked down the street, he knew that Nathan's men would spot him sooner rather than later. Nathaniel had a lot of things, a death wish for example, but the one thing didn't have, the one thing he wanted more than ever, was time. He just hoped they wouldn't force him to walk willingly into their cars. 

He just passed a small boutique with fake flowers decorating the doorways when a muscly body shoved him into an alleyway. There were no words exchanged in the shuffle. No 'welcome back Junior's' or taunts used to terrify him. Just grunts as Nathaniel let himself be pushed to the ground. Held there. 

He didn't want to look his assailant in the face, he didn't want to see the eyes of one of the men he's tried so desperately to escape. So he didn't. Nathaniel looked right above the blonde hairline, waiting for some drug to be plunged into his system. Something that'd make his veins burn and his head droop. 

After a few seconds of silence, an unusual amount for a kidnapping, Nathaniel gave in and looked at his assailant. 

"Neil? What the fuck?" 

The alleyway lapsed into heavy breathing and the sound of cars rushing by just beyond its murky walls. That is until Nathaniel broke out into laughter. There, pinning Nathaniel to the ground with muscles built off of surviving, in all his stupid glory: was Aaron Minyard. In this moment, if God told him that his life was always meant to be a comedy, Nathaniel would believe him. Despite the murderous father and mafia ties, some things about his life really were hilarious. Like the way Nathaniel was ready to accept his death. Laid his dying body out like a platter for his father, and of course Aaron Minyard, backliner for the Palmetto Foxes Exy team tackled him like he was a striker aiming for a goal. 

"Oh shit, so you're alive?" 

"Andrew," Aaron said like Nathaniel was the dumbest person he'd ever met, "Wouldn't possibly let me die." 

And… Nathaniel had to give him that, but that still didn't explain, "And my father wouldn't have possibly just let you go." 

"Just how well do you know your father, Junior?" 

Nathaniel let his head fall to the pavement at the sound of her voice. The one he still hears late at night when he can't sleep. The one that tortures his brain when he can. Her voice. The one that worms it's way into his head when he holds a knife, or worse: when someone else holds a knife. When Andrew holds a knife. 

"Lola." 

It was just like her to lead Nathaniel in a false sense of security with Aaron, just to rip it from him two seconds later. 

Aaron seemed conflicted by the exchange. His eyes shone with a glimmer of enjoyment when Nathaniel groaned, but also in guilt when the two were locked in a stare. Before Aaron witnessed the fear Nathaniel so openly felt, Aaron looked thoroughly amused with the situation. 

"Thank you Aaron, I can take it from here," Lola pulled Aaron roughly off of Nathaniel with a sneer, "Why don't you go join your friend in the car." 

Without the weight of Aaron on his chest, Nathaniel could feel the anxiety crushing him. Could smell the fear and sweat he so obviously was covered in. By the look of it, Lola could too. As she walked slowly and precisely towards Nathaniel's body, the alleyway seemed to narrow to just her. All of her. 

Lola. Lola. Lola. 

Graying blonde hair with split ends. Blood red lipstick. Wrinkled crow's feet. Sharp cupids bow. She looked like danger and not in the sexy way. In the, "I killed your family and ate their hearts" way. To Nathaniel, she looked the exact same. It was her. The one from his dreams. The one from his nightmares. It was Lola. 

Lola. Lola. Lola. 

Nathaniel was struck out of the trance when she pounced. One minute she was standing on both her legs, small filet knife in one hand, a smirk pulling at her lips. The next, she was on him. Her thighs on either side of his torso. Her chest resting right over his. To anyone else, this looked like a couple too horny to make it to the doorstep. Too infatuated with each other to find a private place to make out. They didn't see the line of blood trailing down from Nathaniel temple to his cheek. They didn't have to witness the way Lola smiled maniacally at the sight of his pearly red blood. 

Nathaniel held it together pretty well. When Lola called him 'Pretty Boy' and grinded against his abs, Nathaniel bit his lip and hardened his glare.. When Lola put the pointed end of her knife on the tip of his tongue, Nathaniel did not whimper, but rather bit down on the knife. When Lola danced her knife along his throat, flirting with the idea of adding pressure, Nathaniel whispered, "Do it." Finally, when Lola carved her name in the space just between Nathaniel's jaw and neck, her knife going so deep Nathaniel's tongue could feel the pressure inside his mouth, Nathaniel laughed. The action sending the blade deeper into his flesh, closer to his jugular. 

Lola looked fed up as she finally began to speak more than her taunts, "You're friends are going to die Nathaniel, and even you sacrificing yourself like this won't save them," Lola ran her finger through Nathaniel's bloody hair, "We're going to make you tear them apart piece by piece, and then we're going to make you eat." 

Nathaniel's blood runs cold. He came back to trade his life for theirs. This was meant to be all of them for him. 

"You thought you were saving them? Nathaniel, you were damning them." 

If he was anyone else, Nathaniel would be terrified. A normal person would hear these threats and feel their blood flowing effortlessly down their cheek and scream. But Nathaniel wasn't normal. From the day he was born to the day he dies, he'd been doomed to the title "Nothing". He's expendable compared to his friends. To his family. Nathaniel wasn't scared; he was angry. 

With this in mind, Nathaniel grabbed Lola's wrists and pushed with his feet. When Nathaniel was officially looming over Lola, pinning her efficiently to the ground, he wasted no time in taunting her. Fast, before Lola could even realize she was going to die, Nathaniel let go of her wrist and slammed her head into the concrete. A sickening crack broke through the alley. Nathaniel stayed still to see if he really managed to end it, and when she didn't move: Nathaniel smiled. 

It was a grin that only Lola Malcom would recognize. She was the only one there while Nathaniel learned as a young boy. She shoved the knives into his hands. It was her. All of his life was based on what Lola decided to do with the time Nathan gave her. Lola could've broken him. Lola did break him, but that's the thing about broken bones. 

They always grow back stronger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a chapter 2 even tho I said I wouldn't. If I don't finish this you have my full permission to on your own.


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